


Interpersonal Communications

by gwynndelous (Eristastic)



Series: SouKisu University AU [6]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Emotionally Repressed, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eristastic/pseuds/gwynndelous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stopped Kisumi’s hand and kissed it, searching desperately for the words he could say to make everything clear. Everything felt clichéd, overused, or so easily deflected with another selfless line of Kisumi’s that it wasn’t even worth trying.<br/>So he went back to the start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interpersonal Communications

**Author's Note:**

> I'd already developed old Kisi's character a little for this AU, so it felt high time for Sousuke's turn.
> 
> [Also, I'm back to having internet and I've got a fair amount of backlog to upload yaaaay]

It started out as a pretty normal morning, all things considered.

Rin was growling something about ‘useless, lazy roommates who couldn’t even get off their ass _one_ day in the week to go pick up bread’, Makoto was stumbling blearily into the living area like the sweetest, gentlest bear to ever live who just happened to be wearing his boyfriend’s shirt and apparently nothing else, and Sousuke was shovelling down cereal and questioning whether it was worth it to remind Makoto that the boyfriend shirt style only worked if your boyfriend was bigger than you.

After a suitable amount of fuss, Rin sat down at the table with cereal as well and poured Makoto orange juice, scowling in Sousuke’s direction all the way. Makoto beamed with one of those smiles of his that seemed sunny enough to melt even the thickest of glaciers and kissed Rin’s forehead as he joined them at the table.

“Thanks, babe. Love you~”

“Love you too,” Rin replied, nuzzling into his boyfriend’s cheek. Sousuke barely repressed a smirk. It had been weird getting used to the idea that Rin, the overly touchy human shark, as he was known in certain situations (i.e. anywhere where he wasn’t likely to hear), was so open in his affections because really, what with the way he blushed and cried and generally stayed glued to the screen during romance anime or dramas, you’d be forgiven for thinking he’d take the ‘embarrassed maiden’ route instead. But it had become obvious from the start of their relationship that Rin wasn’t going to hold back in the slightest when it came to Eskimo kisses, sugary words, ‘You hang up’-‘No, _you_ hang up’ and all the other stuff Sousuke hadn’t know existed outside of fiction. It was kind of cute, if he was honest. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t laugh.

Rin resumed glaring at him with one arm wrapped around Makoto. “Got a problem? You sure as hell don’t miss out in giving us way too much information about your sex life, so I’m sure you can stomach a few kisses.”

“Who said I had a problem? You keep being sickening, man. You do you.”

“Do you seriously have the nerve to call us sickening? Have you seen the way Kisumi hangs off you?”

Sousuke shrugged. “That’s just Kisumi’s thing.”

“Yeah, that just makes you even more hypocritical.”

“Guys, we haven’t even finished breakfast…” Makoto sighed, rubbing soothing circles on Rin’s back in an effort to calm him.

Slightly mollified, Rin stopped bristling for a fight. “What do you even have against it anyway? I thought people mostly got annoyed about couples kissing when they were jealous or something.”

“It’s…” Sousuke gave it some thought, fishing out the last of his cereal from its milky grave. “It’s just because you keep saying you love each other over and over and over. It sounds so sappy. I’m surprised you can put up with hearing yourselves. It’s just kind of weird, you feel?”

Rin and Makoto shared a look, then turned back to Sousuke, shaking their heads. Rin cracked a smile. “What are you, a five year old afraid of cooties? What, like you don’t tell Kisumi you love him a hundred times a day?”

“I don’t.”

They both started at that. Makoto recovered first, laughing a little in that tension-calming way he had. “Well, you’re not the most vocal of people, so I’m sure you say it enough in private, right?”

Sousuke shrugged. “Not really. Don’t think I say it that often at all, to be honest.”

As Rin and Makoto shared another wary glance, Sousuke began to get the feeling that rather than winning a contest of being the least mushy, he might have been admitting to something bad. Unnerved, he stood up quickly, bringing his bowl to the sink, and tried to make light of it. “What’s with those faces, anyway? You said it yourself: I’m not vocal. Doesn’t really matter, right? They’re just words.”

Makoto seized the opportunity and nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Yeah, and your relationship’s hardly suffering.”

“Right.” But the budding feeling of unease stayed in the pit of Sousuke’s stomach, sinking its roots deeper as Rin fixed him with a meaningful look.

“Sure,” Rin conceded despite all of his body language indicating the opposite. “I’m sure it’s fine. I was just thinking it’s got to be difficult for Kisumi, being that affectionate all the time and getting no romance back.” He shrugged. “But it’s not an issue, yeah?”

For the nth time in his life, Sousuke cursed how well Rin knew his insecurities.

 

It hung over him for days. He kept telling himself he’d do something about it, something to stop feeling guilty, but talking about his emotions had never been one of his strong points, and every time the perfect opportunity presented itself for him to bring up the subject with Kisumi or even to just say or do something on Rin-levels of romantic, he froze up.

It wasn’t fear, or reluctance, or nervousness: he just froze and, paralysed, was left to nod or smile pathetic shadows of what he’d really wanted to say to his boyfriend. There was no rationalising or justifying it: his body simply wouldn’t or couldn’t respond to what he wanted from it. And so, for every ‘I love you’ Kisumi lavished on him (and they came in droves, he now realised), he felt another stab of guilt run through him.

If Kisumi noticed, he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t unheard of for the guy to keep quiet about the really important things, but his silence just made Sousuke feel worse, if anything. It meant that he was used to this: to Sousuke clamming up and not saying what he needed to express, and to just taking the reins and doing all the work.

The more he thought about it, the more Sousuke began to think that that might have always been the case.

Oh, he could flirt (in small doses, but that was usually enough), he could express contentment, he could keep a relationship going, but…it wasn’t equal. And the thought that Kisumi didn’t know (because Sousuke couldn’t just go ahead and _tell_ him) how much he was loved back…it tormented him, festering in his mind as he wondered if Kisumi even had any idea. He was perceptive and sensitive to understanding what Sousuke wanted to say most of the time, but he was no Rin, and there was no reasonable way of expecting him to pick up on everything.

Sousuke began to wonder how much it hurt, to be so affectionate and to be given only pitiful scraps of smiles and grunts in return.

 

He’d like everyone to know he’d tried, this time. It’d be nice to be appreciated for it, but just having people _know_ that this party was draining his will to live would be a start (and from the occasional smirk Rin shot in his direction, he wasn’t far off the mark).

The thing was, parties just pissed him off: he didn’t mind crowds or anything, but the noise and the bustle and the energy and the idiocy that seemed to come off everybody in waves after they’d downed a few cheap drinks…did not sit well with him, to put it mildly. But if there was one thing Yamazaki Sousuke was good at, it was hiding how he felt, and if he’d managed to soldier on through years of fucking _torturous_ physical therapy to keep swimming, he could damn well make it through a party his boyfriend had wanted to go to.

He hoped.

He’d promised himself: even if he couldn’t get past the insurmountable barrier of words, he’d still try to do something…even if said something was grating on his nerves faster than that one Nagisa kid he’d met once years ago and vowed never to go within a fifty metre radius of ever again (it had been a tumultuous meeting, filled with chatter and very high balconies and reckless consumption of vodka).

Trying to make things easier, he practically glued himself to Kisumi’s side, an arm swung round his shoulders and a glare on his face ready to throw at anyone who tried to come near his bombshell of a boyfriend.

For his part, Kisumi seemed to be having a great time, so there was one silver lining to the otherwise unforgivably stormy cloud. Wearing a strappy top and short-shorts combination that had the sort of casual gorgeousness that clung to Kisumi as often as his favourite perfume, he steered Sousuke around the house like a patient lion-tamer, at first trying to introduce him but (upon realising that that was probably inadvisable considering the inherent incompatibility of his boyfriend and parties) just contented himself with doing the rounds.

Eventually Kisumi found his way through the low lighting and hot squeeze of bodies to where Rin and Makoto stood near the kitchen (an accomplishment in and of itself) and gently angled Sousuke next to them. He hopped back with an apologetic smile, saying, “I need to go find someone real quick, ’kay? Love you!” and rushed off into the crowd again, easily disappearing among similarly multi-coloured outfits.

Sousuke watched after him for a second, caught in the uncomfortable limbo between contentment with how the situation turned out (because he _really_ didn’t think he could stand another person gawping at his chest and saying ‘Duuuude, you’re huuuuuuge’ with a stupid smile plastered on their face) and guilt. Sickening, twisted, familiar guilt.

Rin side-eyed him. “Man, what are you even doing here? You hate this sort of thing.”

Bickering with Rin: more familiarity. “Do I have to remind you that you’ve said ‘never again’ to this sort of party like five times now? I’m keeping score.”

“Oh, don’t!” Makoto cut in, draped over Rin as he was (unsurprisingly, they craved each other’s contact even more when tipsy). “I know the host: I dragged him here, so don’t…” He looked about to cry. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but even so, Sousuke felt guilty.

“Relax, it’s fine.”

Rin cocked an eyebrow, still not letting the matter go. “Kind of rich to say that when you’re the one who looks about to blow.”

“Rin, for fuck’s sake, would you let it go just this _one_ time?”

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hands in submission, narrowly missing Makoto’s nose, “it’s admirable of you to do this to make Kisumi happy, but like…have you even talked to him?”

Sousuke looked away.

“…right. I’m not sure if you could tell, from your high vantage point and all, but he…didn’t look comfortable.”

That got Sousuke’s attention, and he was about to snap a question when a hand burst through the throng next to him and grabbed his own. Kisumi followed soon after, smiling.

“I’m feeling kind of wrecked: do you want to go home?”

Blinking, Sousuke took a second to connect the Kisumi in his mind he’d been trying to second guess all evening (well, all week, but who was counting) and the suddenly very real person in front of him. He was stuck: it was so obviously a lie, and he didn’t want Kisumi to be the one to make the sacrifice again, but he was offering, and…and…

Rin pushed him forwards probably a little harder than was warranted, and he stumbled after Kisumi as they began to forge a route back to the front door.

It was cold outside. Sousuke couldn’t be sure how much that was the actual temperature and how much the contrast between the heat of the party and its sudden disappearance, but whatever it was, it gave him the excuse (he didn’t want to think about how he felt he needed an _excuse_ now) to move closer to Kisumi as they walked down the streetlight-lit road.

Kisumi was quiet. He seemed in good enough spirits to have the usual skip to his step, humming along to the music they could still feel pounding out from the house, but none of it could make up for the gaping silence between them.

For perhaps the first time, Sousuke knew without a doubt that he couldn’t fill it up by himself.

Shook to his core, he reached out blindly for Kisumi’s hand, wrapping their fingers together urgently, trying to…trying to…trying, always _trying_ , but…

But for a second, Sousuke thought Kisumi would pull away. It was a baseless thought, with no logic or proof behind it, but it came roaring into his mind and was only silenced when Kisumi squeezed his hand back, a peaceful smile spreading onto his face. He didn’t look up from the pavement. And yet Sousuke couldn’t stop watching him.

“Do you want to talk?” Kisumi said in his normal tone, his normal pitch, but it seemed so much heavier for some reason.

“I…I’m not any good at talking. You know that.” He hated himself for saying it.

“Mm. I know. But I’m giving you the chance, wide and open, so humour me, can’t you?” Once again in his normal voice, and to his credit it only broke a little towards the end.

He turned a sad smile to Sousuke. “Don’t think I’m so dense I don’t notice. You’ve been so, so _off_ lately, you know? Like you’re walking on glass around me. Or like you’re constantly stopping yourself from saying things. And tonight: what was even up with that? You don’t like parties, and that’s fine! I’m fine occasionally going to them with just my friends, really! I’d never force you into doing something you hate, so-”

“That’s just it, isn’t it? You won’t force me. I just force you.”

“Huh?” Kisumi looked genuinely surprised, the smile completely wiped from his face as if he honestly had no idea what Sousuke was talking about.

And maybe it was the night air getting to him, or the alcohol, or the way Kisumi’s eyes seemed to dance as if with tears reflecting the lamplight, but the words actually seemed to flow properly from Sousuke’s mouth that time. No freezing up, no paralysis, no inexplicable inability to fucking _communicate_.

“All this time, it’s always been you. You’re always the one to do things for me, to carry all the weight in the relationship and to make allowances for me. It’s not fair, and I didn’t even realise. Until Rin – of course it’d be Rin – pointed it out, I didn’t even realise I never do a goddamn thing for you, can you imagine?”

“Sou…you do plenty for me…”

“Not the important things. I don’t act romantic, I’m not all cuddly, I’m not…” he sighed, clenching the hand not holding Kisumi’s. “I can’t talk. But you can’t mind-read, and I can’t even stand to think about what you don’t know.”

He brought them to a stop in the middle of the pavement, pushing himself to meet Kisumi’s eyes and to do this properly. “It’s difficult for me. I don’t know why, but it is, and I’m so, so sorry for that. I can’t say things like ‘I love you’ even though you do all the time, and I can’t express anything to you properly, and I just…I don’t want you to think I don’t care, because I do, I care about you so fucking much it hurts, and it kills me that you don’t know that.”

A moment to breathe, to regret, to wish he could take all his words back inside him if it would erase the tears welling in Kisumi’s eyes.

“Really,” Kisumi gulped, “just how dense do you think I _am_?” He coughed a small laugh, wiping at his eyes distractedly, before taking Sousuke’s hands back in his and staring him down. “I know you love me, even if you don’t say it. It’s been months and months, Sou: I can read you now! And even from the start, it wasn’t _difficult_. You show me you love me all the time, it’s just not through words and that’s fine for me! Why did you have to get me all worried, all worked up over this?”

“Because it does matter! You’re always so open about everything, and I-”

“You’re a different person, Sousuke. That’s okay.” He brushed a hand down Sousuke’s jaw, smiling fondly and it felt like everything had gone back to before the whole mess. But that wasn’t what Sousuke wanted.

He stopped Kisumi’s hand and kissed it, searching desperately for the words he could say to make everything clear. Everything felt clichéd, overused, or so easily deflected with another selfless line of Kisumi’s that it wasn’t even worth trying.

So he went back to the start.

“I love you. I love basically everything about you, and the stupid thing is that that’s not even an exaggeration. I love how clingy you are; I love how affectionate you are; I love how flirty you are; I love how lively you always are, how optimistic and caring; I love every laugh you have, from your embarrassed ones to the ones full of surprise and happiness; I love how chill you are about basically everything but how nothing ever feels superficial with you; I love how petty you can get over stupid things, and how you spend ages pouting and sulking until I apologise; I love your dumb fights with Rin over fictional girls; I love your style, and your hair,” he buried his forehead in it, “ _God_ , I love your hair.”

After an age of shock and a slowly spreading smile of delight, that was what made Kisumi laugh uncontrollably, holding onto Sousuke for support. And Sousuke joined in, if quieter.

“You…” Kisumi giggled, obviously relieved. “Are you done? Not going to say anything about sex?”

Sousuke really did laugh at that. “It’s called saving the best until last. I love your moans; your screams; the faces you make; your dick is the light of my life-”

“Alright!” Kisumi put his hands over Sousuke’s mouth, still laughing. “I hear you!”

They watched each other for a few moments of uncertain length until their laughter had faded away, and Kisumi let his hands move down to curl around Sousuke’s waist, snuggling up closer. “Thanks.”

Sousuke grunted back, arms wrapping around Kisumi in turn.

“I don’t…” Kisumi began, thought better of it, and started again. “It’s not really a problem for me. Your silence. I mean, I love hearing you say that sort of thing – I really love it – but it’s okay if you can’t. And I appreciate how much effort you must have put into it, seriously. But please,” he cupped his hands around Sousuke’s jaw and stared up at him with glittering eyes, “don’t feel you have to. I know Rin put you on edge, but we’re not him and Makoto. Couples work differently. Those two are super affectionate. So am I. And you’re not. But relationships don’t have to have two of the same type of person; you should know that. So it’s okay if we’re different, but it’s also okay if you sometimes feel you need to express yourself more. I’ll be here. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

Sousuke had grown a hell of a lot more used to hugs since he’d started going out with Kisumi, and for that he was glad because he didn’t feel even the slightest twinge of discomfort when he practically grabbed Kisumi closer to him, breathing in his smell. “You’re too good for me,” he said, muffled as it was by Kisumi’s neck.

“Aw…” Kisumi ruffled his hair. “That’s just what you said when I introduced you to bondage, though.”

“Yeah, but I mean it this time.”

“So you _didn’t_ mean it about the bondage? I’m insulted.”

Sousuke laughed. “I mean it about _everything_.”

Kisumi didn’t have any quips for that one.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest: writing relationships isn't easy for me, because I can relate so much more to Sousuke here than Kisumi.


End file.
